


The Night We Met

by Lexitennant2



Series: God Pairs Up Angels and Demons [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Crowley in a dress, Domestic Fluff, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexitennant2/pseuds/Lexitennant2
Summary: Gabriel spills the beans about Crowley, but also comes to the realization that he shouldn't be hunting after Crowley and Aziraphale. Anathema goes with Beez and Gabriel to talk to Crowley and Aziraphale. There's a wedding, a surpise guest makes a visit, and a Nightingale sings one more time.





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> The final part is finally here! Thank you to everyone who has been patient with me with every update, and for all the kudos and comments :) I appreciated them very much.  
I hoped you liked this series!!!

The Lord of Hell and the archangel seemed to be taken aback by her words.

“Well it’s true isn’t it? Beelzebub, you were once an angel.” 

The Lord of Hell scoffed but didn’t argue.

Gabriel frowned down into his folded palms, the memory of his adversary dancing and twirling up in Heaven flickering into his head for a brief moment.  _ before  _ the fall.

“So I don’t understand why you guys are always at each others throats? Crowley won’t tell me about the fall, and I doubt he’s even told Aziraphale anything. What caused so many angels to just fall? I’ve seen some demons are truly twisted things, but Crowley is kind and you..” Anathema trailed off and looked directly at Beelzebub.

“Well.” Beelzebub spoke, some worry etched in their face.

Gabriel was once again thrown back by the show of emotion.

“I...agreed with Crowley.” They began, looking everywhere but the people they were addressing. “My memorieszz a little fuzzy, but from what I can remember iszz that Crowley was rather high up, ironic now that heszz szzo low on the demon totem pole.”

“You didn’t follow Crowley.” Gabriel sniped, playing with his tie nervously. A very  _ human  _ gesture.

Beelzebub looked at him in anger.

“What the hell do you mean, I think I would know what led to my  _ downfall. _ ”

“You followed Lucifer, not Crowley. Crowley had nothing to do with the rebellion you were a part of.”

The humans watched the exchange between the demon and archangel in stunned silence. Anathema was trying gather all this information so she could a form a picture in her mind about what was happening.

“What do you mean?!” Beelzebub’s flies were getting agitated, ignoring Geraldine’s comforting buzz that was trying to calm them down.

Gabriel looked pained as he explained.

“Crowley was never a part of Lucifer’s crowd in the sense that you were a part of. Because you fell, your memories are scattered so you would assume that since Crowley fell, it was because of his relationship with Lucifer. But that had nothing to do with it. Crowley is older than Lucifer, he wouldn’t follow around his little brother.”

Gabriel closed his mouth as if he’d said too much. And he had.

Gabriel fixed his tie again in a nervous habit and let himself freely think for once about everything.

Gabriel was a messenger of the lord. He had delivered Mary the news about being blessed with a miracle child. Whatever God needed to be spread to the world, Gabriel would do so, and in doing so he would see how every country held representations of himself and his God. And bit by bit he began to follow the basic human thinking, forgetting sometimes that he was an angel, and shouldn’t feel above everyone else, shouldn’t feel as if he needed to prosecute Crowley and Aziraphale when it was so clear that what they were doing was probably the bravest any of their kind had ever done.

He remembered a time when he was laughing giddly, watching his  _ brother,  _ Crowley, throwing stars up into the sky trying to make a portrait of Michael and failing miserably at it.

Michael had watched from afar, her lips pursed with disapproval but her eyes twinkled with humor. 

Uriel had tried to fix it later, but Crowley had insisted that it looked even better than the real thing, earning him a cuff to the ear from his older sister.

Gabriel had never felt happier, staring up at the abstract star portrait of his older sister.

“I don’t know what he’s been telling people _ .” _

_ “I hung around the wrong crowd. _ ” Anathema chimed in.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “But that’s not the real reason he fell.”

Beelzebub did a rather bold move, and placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.

Gabriel looked up from his seated position and was met with curious brown eyes. Gabriel could hardly even feel the others hand on his shoulder, as Beelzebub asked him quietly, almost scared, “Your brother?”

Gabriel winced and didn’t make any move to remove the demons hand from his shoulder.

“Every demon was once another angel. I doubt you remember your name but it was most certainly not  _ angel Beelzebub.”  _ He wrinkled his nose, while Beelzebub made a  _ huffing  _ sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“But  _ you  _ remember their names.” Anathema gasped out, the picture fully formed in her mind.

Gabriel nodded.

“Oh my God, Crowley is  _ Raphael.” _

Beelzebub’s hand dropped from Gabriels shoulder

“What?” They buzzed out weakly.

“It all makes sense.” Anathema was getting excited, her arms gesticulating wildly, nearly smacking Newt in the face several times.

“He’s your brother right, which must mean he’s an archangel, and he’s older than Lucifer. He has to be  _ Raphael.  _ There aren’t that many other choices, and I’ve never heard Raphael mentioned before. Sure he’s in the bible stories and he’s not forgotten, but Aziraphale has never mentioned him when he brought up you guys.”

Gabriel nodded again, unwillingly impressed with the witch’s thinking.

“He’s  _ Raphael _ ?” Beelzebub whispered out, looking smaller than they already were. Gabriel ached to comfort the demon but held himself back.

He was still warring with himself. He had come in here, demanding that those  _ two  _ be fully punished by the wrath of God. For what reason though? Because they had the courage to become friends? To see past their differences.

It was so like Raphael, like Crowley to be the worst demon ever. To become smitten with an angel that Gabriel almost couldn’t fault him.

He thought of his own growing feelings for Beelzebub, how the demon was clearly more than just an emotionless slate. 

“You are right, Rap-Crowley wouldn’t let Lucifer tempt him like that...but what did he do then?” Beelzebub asked.

Gabriel made a decision in his mind at that exact moment.

“That’s something for him to explain. Anathema, could you please do the counter spell? I promise it’s not a trick to hurt them, I just want to  _ talk.” _

Anathema’s jaw dropped, but she began to rise, her hand reaching behind her for a little box beside the fridge behind her chair.

Newt grabbed her wrist.

“Are you sure about this?” He hissed, looking pale. 

“You can come too.” Gabriel pleaded again, the harsh angel all gone after he remembered how it used to be. Forced to reflect on how he wasn’t acting very angel like. 

“I’ll come. Newt, you can stay.” She said the last bit softly, understanding that the rug that was everything Newt had been taught and understood had been pulled out from under his feet. Witch’s were one thing, archangels and demons were another.

Newt was strong, there was no denying for his part in the apocalypse showed it, but this was something he would need time with, and this was something where time was the essence.

Anathema brought the box to the table and opened, revealing it to be filled with gold dust. She blew on it, and it changed to a shimmering pink. She pinched some between her thumb and forefinger and thumb and sprinkled over her head. She reached into the box two more times and sprinkled the pink dust onto the angel and demon.

"Now," Anathema closed the box with a definitive snap, "we can head on over."

Geraldine, the clever fly that she was, seemed to understand what was happening and bounced up and down on Beelzebub's head with vigor. The demon was trying not to show that they were bothered by the movement as the excited fly wriggled and danced happily upon their head, messing up their already disheveled black hair, and causing strands to go into the demons eyes.

The three of them crawled into Newt's  _ Dick Turpin  _ and Anathema drove the entire hour with an odd buzz going through her. Whether it was the reverberating of the all the flies in the car, or her own anxiety's she didn't know.

They pulled up to a cottage that was quite similar to her own, but named  _ Hollythorn,  _ the paint faded away on one of the l's making it look like  _ Holythorn. _

Gabriel and Beelzebub were the first on the porch, Anathema standing timidly behind them, aware that the angel and demon inside would be rather unwelcoming to the angel and demon trying to get in.

Gabriel rang the doorbell, and they patiently waited.

Nothing happened.

Gabriel pressed it again, with a little more force than necessary. 

There was faint grumbling and harsh footsteps coming from inside, and the door was thrown open by Crowley.

His mouth was open, ready to shout, but his body froze as he took in Gabriel and Beelzebub.

Aziraphale came into view, and even though he was fully dressed - unlike the yellow robe and black sock look Crowley was somehow rocking - it was evident what had been going on by flushed faces and red lips.

Anathema reminded herself that right now was not the time to be addressing this, and instead peeked her head out from behind Gabriel's shoulder.

Geraldine all but threw her body into Crowley, and his arms instinctively catching her and holding her securely to his chest was enough to make even the hardest of hearts melt with the tenderness.

"Hope we're not interrupting anything." Anathema said meekly.

  
  


Crowley upon realizing who was at the door, turned his back to them.

He was panicking, trying to think of where he had last left his Valentino sunglasses, and he fled into the house, still holding Geraldine to his chest, wondering where the bloody hell his glasses were.

Aziraphale leaned against the door frame and decided against it when he realized how ridiculous and out of character he looked, and straightened and put clasped his hands in front of his belly.

"What do I owe the pleasure of seeing you all so...soon?" He directed the question at Anathema, his expression friendly enough but his body language and tone showing how tensed up he was.

Gabriel didn't give Anathema a chance to reply, instead he pushed his way past Aziraphale and into the kitchen.

Anathema scowled and stomped in after him, more set on scolding him for what he had just done then realizing she was doing the same thing.

Beelzebub stood awkwardly on the porch, and Aziraphale sighed and waved them in.

Ironically, it was the demon who had the manners of the group.

Aziraphale walked over to Anathema, after closing the door, and pulled her aside mid scolding.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed. "Did they force you to come here? have they hurt you?"

Anathema shook her head.

"It was Gabriel's idea to come here yes, but not to hurt you guys. He wants to talk."

She explained to Aziraphale what had happened the last few days that Beelzebub and Gabriel had been in her home. He had paled considerably when he'd heard that Gabriel had man-handled Newt, but was back to his natural color and looking quite pleased by the end once Anathema had told him that Gabriel seemed to be coming round to the idea that Aziraphale and Crowley together was not such a bad idea.

Aziraphale and Anathema watched as Gabriel and Beelzebub crowded around the microwave, poking the buttons like curious children. Crowley had not come back yet.

"Why did Crowley run out of the room like that, I was certain he was going to give Gabriel a piece of his mind."

"I'm sure he will with time dear, but the side effects of the spell have left him rather, _ vulnerable _ ."

Anathema raised an eyebrow, but wasn't able to ask any questions as Crowley stumbled back into the room so suddenly that he smashed his barefoot into the archway of the door.

His face contorted in a silent scream and he began hopping up and down, cradling his foot in his hands.

The four other occupants of the room turned to look at him in bewilderment as he cursed everything under the sun, a tear streaming down his face, past his sunglasses.

"Who in there bloody right mind put that there." He grumbled once his toe had settled to a dull ache. 

The others stayed silent, taking in his appearance. He'd changed out of the robe into a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips, and one of Aziraphale's button up shirts that he'd taken the tail ends of and tied into bunny loops at his stomach because otherwise it would hang to his knees.

Anathema clapped her hands together, "Vulnerable." She said in shock. It was now her turn to be stared at by everyone, with only Aziraphale understanding what was happening.

"I knew I should have read the prophecy pages I gave you, I might have been able to help you with this." She motioned to Crowley.

"Prophecy?" Crowley asked, at the same time Aziraphale said, "Agnes."

They both looked at each other, and in unison ran towards the living room where the pages still were.

"Look, I'm sure this can wait." Gabriel said pleasantly, following behind the angel and demon, Anathema and Beelzebub on his heels.

"We have something  _ rather  _ important to discuss. I've had an epiphany of late-"

"Oh have you now?" Crowley muttered dryly, shifting through the papers, tossing any that didn't seem anything to do with their current situation. Aziraphale picked them up from the floor to do a second glance and kept saying to himself " _ how could we have been so stupid not to check Agnes Nutters' prophecies _ ."

" _ Crowley  _ , would you  _ please  _ just listen!" Gabriel snapped.

Crowley looked bewildered and stopped frantically sorting through the papers. Aziraphale took a half-step in front of him, suddenly looking worried and defensive which was a rather funny look combined together.

"Right," Gabriel smoothed his hair down though no hair had been shifted out of place, and sat down in the high backed chair that used to be in the bookshop. He sat primly, and waited patiently as Crowley and Aziraphale copied his movements, sitting down on the sofa, Aziraphale making sure to keep himself between Crowley and Gabriel. Anathema nudged Geraldine gently so the fly would vacate the armrest next to Crowley so Anathema could sit there. Geraldine gave an annoyed buzz but flew over to plop onto Beelzebub's head, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor across from the sofa with the table in between them.

"To start, Beelzebub and I both agreed that something needed to be done after you lot stopped the Armageddon." He gave them a pointed glare and continued. "We each had our own issues back at home office with disgruntled demon and angel soldiers, and it made sense to team up to take you both down. Make the almighty see that you lot were  _ fraternizing.  _ If I had it my way  _ Aziraphale _ , you would have fallen."

Aziraphale paled and Crowley reached over to grasp his hand, knowing that if he had been a demon again he'd be hissing in warning.

"Ah yes, then you two pulled that  _ stunt,  _ nearly burning my face off." He glared at Aziraphale. "So we changed tactic and tried to get evidence of you ever growing...relationship so we could show God what was going on. Maybe then  _ she _ would notice that this couldn't carry on. Aziraphale you are a traitor and a horrible excuse of an angel, and Crowley your idea of being evil is gluing coins to the sidewalk." He scoffed, and Anathema made a polite cough.

"You said you were coming here  _ not  _ to hurt them." She crossed her arms and stared down the archangel.

He sighed and for once seemed uncertain. "I'm getting there." He said testily. 

"I did some...terrible things. I'm not proud of it. I didn't act as an angel should." He said bitterly. "That was when I had to sit back and try to understand what the hell I was doing."

Beelzebub piped up at that point.

"We aren't wired like humanszz. We're baszze good and base evil. Anathema made a point to remind uszz that we all came from the sszzame place but itszz been ssszzoo long it'szz easzzy to forget. Szzoo to szee you both up here, being both good and evil, the closzzezzsst thing to humanszz an ethereal or occult being could be, well it didn't szzit right with any of uszz. For szzelfish reaszzonszz."

"Here you two were, carrying out this millennia long courtship right under our noses, and just messing up our plans over and over again. While it wasn't right, it was easy to start hating you both. You were free in a way that neither of you may not have realized-"

"Free?" Crowley interjected. "You call you guys breathing down our necks, free? Spending every century in agony because we can't speak more than a few words without raising suspicion and threat of discorporation?"

"Yes!" Gabriel shouted. "Yes we gave you limited freedom but it was  _ freedom _ none the less. Do you think I could just walk around with Beelzbub every couple of centuries like you did with Aziraphale and not get shamed by the angels? Do you think I could have talked to _ you Raphael."  _ Gabriel jumped up from his seat and Crowley echoed his movements.

"What did you say?" Crowley asked softly, any bit of fight draining out of him once he'd heard his old name from his brothers lips.

Gabriel, even though he was slightly taller than Crowley, hunched in on himself enough to become much smaller.

"What, did you just say?" Crowley hesitantly took a step closer, placing a hand on the younger archangels shoulder.

" _ Raphael,  _ I'm so sorry. I wanted to talk to you at first, but Michael had threatened to make me fall too and I couldn't do that. I always was the weaker out of all of us. And as the years went by I felt abandoned. You were gone, Lucifer was gone, Uriel and Michael became smug and hurtful and I followed their foot steps. I began to hate you too. And then you surfaced with Aziraphale, an angel that lost the freaking flaming sword but was still touched by God."

He looked over at Aziraphale who was sitting dumbstruck on the couch.

"Did you know you were the last one  _ she _ talked to? She hasn't said a word. Metatron might fool others but not me.  _ She  _ won't talk to us anymore." Gabriel's voice hitched on a sob and he sank forward so his head was resting on Crowley's shoulders.

His larger hands came upwards to clutch at Crowley's upper arms. "Why did you have to fall?" He asked sounding utterly and completely broke.

Crowley's eyes were wide behind his sunglasses as he felt his younger brother sobbing into his neck. He hesitantly brought his brother closer and held him loosley.

Anathema looked away, suddenly over come with her own emotions.

Beelzebub cleared their throat nervously and locked eyes with Aziraphale.

He was taking everything in. He looked at them all and it dawned on him, that by their reactions, none were surprised that Gabriel had just called Crowley,  _ Raphael _ .

"So." He said angrily over Gabriel's sobbing. "Was anyone gonna clue me in on Crowley being Raphael, or was I supposed to figure that out for myself?"

  
  


In beginning there had been two suns, and Crowley had been Raphael.

One was a pale red color, the other a bright yellow. One had been created by Raphael, and was much smaller and matched his hair. The other was made by God, and she would later decide to keep only her own creation.

When Raphael was given the news, he skulked a bit, but soon became enthralled with the idea of creating stars. He begged God, and with a fond smile, she had let him run wild.

He'd told his brothers and sisters the good news and they had created galaxies and milky ways. Big stars and little stars, all colors and sizes.

Unbeknownst to God, Crowley had managed to keep some of the black sand from the start. He'd created a tiny container and filled it with the soft, dark granules, and kept it in the folds of his white robe. 

It was kept in the safe, behind the Mona Lisa painting. Which had now been relocated to the Hollythorn cottage. It used to sit in between a thermos of holy water, and another container much like it that held some of the red sun he'd created. Now the thermos was gone and all that was in the safe was a reminder of how it used to be.

When the principalities had been created, Raphael had been excited.

Being with his siblings was fun of course, but he loved the idea of meeting new angels and gaining new friends.

He'd snuck away one night for his room he shared with his siblings in the clouds, and flew over to the area where the principalities were. They were all strong and burly, and Adonis like, except for one. 

That was the first night Raphael saw the principality Aziraphale.

The angel was sitting away from the others, his large white wings arched out behind him as he preened. The moonlight hit him so his fine white hair shone like diamonds. He was humming a tune Raphael didn't recognize, but liked nonetheless. He wasn't burly and tanned like the other principalities. He was soft looking, and Raphael wondered if God had mixed up and put an archangel in with the principalities.

Their eyes had met that night, startling blue to brown flecked with gold.

The principality blushed a fire red when he noticed he was being watched, his wings folding back up behind him in embarrassment. He glanced over at his brethren nervously before standing up and walking over to Raphael.

"Hello." He said softly.

Raphael felt his own cheeks heat up at the angels voice and he felt a thrill go up his spine he'd never felt before.

"Hello." He responded back cheerily. "I wanted to meet the new angels, but they all seem a bit to full of themselves." He motioned to where the principalities were comparing their swords.

"But not you." He crooned softly, and tapped under the angels chin with his long and slender finger. 

The angel began to look offended but Crowley shook his head quickly, aware of the misunderstanding.

"I like that you're different. You look like a true angel." He purred the last line out, already addicted to how the principality's face became red with every word from Raphael's lips.

"What do you call yourself?"

"Aziraphale."

"I'm the archangel Raphael. Tell me principality Aziraphale, would you like to see the stars up close?"

  
  


"I knew you before?" Aziraphale asked hoarsely.

Crowley had disengaged himself from Gabriel before he'd begun the story, and was now huddled up on the couch, looking nothing like his usual calm and suave self. He held his sunglasses in his hands, not looking at anyone else.

"When we well, God wiped everyone's memories. I guess since we were her first creation we weren't affected as much. I'm actually surprised that humans know about me..well the old me."

"That was Michael." Gabriel said softly. He'd pulled himself together and was sitting back in his chair, his hands on the armrests in an attempt at trying to seem casual.

Crowley quirked a side of his mouth upwards.

"Of course, wouldn't have expected anyone else."

He ran a hand through his hair and finally looked up.

Anathema had seen his eyes earlier, and had already come to the conclusion that he'd become human, didn't react. But Beelzebub scooted backwards, and even Gabriel looked startled.

"Side effects of the spell, I'm human for now." Crowley said dismissively.

"Interesting that your eyes are the same from when you were an angel." Gabriel commented.

Aziraphale made a whining noise in the back of his throat. "I wish I could remember dear." 

Crowley didn't know why Aziraphale was saying that in such an apologetic tone but appreciated it nonetheless. Aziraphale had no choice in the matter after all.

"Why did you fall?" Beelzebub asked, acting as if they hadn't jumped back seconds before. 

Crowley dragged his hand over his mouth and flicked his eyes around the room.

"I don't know if I should say." He finally said, huddling in on himself even more, his grip tightening on his sunglasses.

Geraldine, as if sensing his mood, flew over to him and bumped him in the head a few times with her own, her buzzing a quiet purr. He let out a huff of a laugh and patted his thigh. She took that as an invitation and settled into his lap, keeping up a soft buzz. Some of the smaller flies joined them, nuzzling onto Geraldine's back, and their buzzes joined in with hers.

"All I did was ask questions." Crowley shrugged. "I'm curious by nature, I wanted to know why we had wings, why God was creating people in her own image when she already had us." He made a noise of thanks when Aziraphale wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him towards him.

"It was right before the rebellion, Lucifer had been gathering supporters for a while now. He didn't agree with God wanting us to love the humans, to treat them better than her. He had rallied so many angels together, it was a wonder that there were any angels left in heaven after the fall. He was always the charming and handsome one." He let out a bitter laugh and curled further into Aziraphale's side.

***

Raphael was running as fast as he could, afraid that if he flew his wings would alert the others of his arrival. The halls leading to Gods room were deserted, and the floor of clouds didn't betray his presence as he zig-zagged his way through the maze of marble walls. The night sky was open above him, the moonlight casting his shadow on the surfaces he passed.

He appeared in Gods throne room with hair dangling in front of his hair. He brushed the red strands back and straightened his robe, the containers in his pocket making a clacking sound as the glass knocked into each other. 

He felt uneasy, for there was no feeling of God in the air. He wondered where she was for a brief moment, before he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He saw a small pin prick of orange light and he walked over to it.

Raphael could hear commotion coming from where he'd came from, and he twiddled his hands together in a very Aziraphale like move.

_ It couldn't be true could it? Lucifer had to be lying. _

He walked over to the light, and touched it with his finger.

Raphael let out a loud gasp and he  _ saw  _ everything. He saw the Earth as it would be, all its people, all its joys and beauty, and he was filled with happiness. But then he saw further. War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death. They walked the Earth with smiles on their faces and destruction was everywhere. There was murder and greed, tears and jealousy. Cruelty that his own mother,  _ God _ , allowed to happen.

He pulled back from the light and stumbled, falling to his knees.

The voices were getting louder, and Raphael didn't have much time to think as he spread his wings and shot up into the air and out into the night sky.

The Garden was still in renovation, one wall missing. The East gate, the one Aziraphale was to protect with his flaming sword.

He'd told Aziraphale to meet him there earlier, and he wasn't disappointed to see the principality waiting for him, pacing the sands nervously.

Raphael nearly tripped into the blue and orange petaled flowers that were surrounding Aziraphale as he rushed to get to him. He hugged the shorter angel tightly too him and didn't let go though the principality was trying to argue out of it.

Aziraphale finally settled and returned the hug, his nose tickling Raphael's collarbone.

"I'm so sorry." Raphael choked out.

Aziraphale made a questioning noise. 

"What are you talking about dear?"

Raphael knew then that whatever happened when Lucifer finally caused a revolt, that he too would be punished. He had seen everything and was questioning God. No proper angel was to question her. And he knew in his heart that he couldn't stay there, pretending to be the perfect little archangel like all the others. He was tainted now like Lucifer and tomorrow he would ask God the question that would most certainly doom him.

"Aziraphale." He breathed out the name, trying to memorize the way the name felt on his tongue. He kissed the top of the angels head and started crying, his shoulders and wings shaking harshly.

"Raphael?" Aziraphale pulled back, his eyes widening.

"Dear your scaring me." Aziraphale cupped Raphael's cheeks with both hands and tried to brush away all the tears coming down Raphael's face with his thumbs but there were too many.

Raphael sunk to his knees, and pressed his face into Aziraphale's rounded stomach.

"I'm not going to see you for again for a while, maybe never again." Raphael whispered.

"What are you talking about Raphael? This is not funny." Aziraphale sounded angry now, but also worried and scared.

"Let's get out of the garden dear, anywhere you want to go we'll go. Wait for everything to settle between Lucifer and the others-"

"No!" Raphael yelled sharply. He tilted his head up to look at Aziraphale. "I've gone and done it Aziraphale, I trusted Lucifer like a fool...and he was right."

Aziraphale tried to pull away now but Raphael held him fast.

"He's right?" Aziraphale squeaked. "Did you fall on your head on the way here?"

"I saw  _ Earth  _ as she planned it Aziraphale, and it is horrid." He remembered the screaming children, all those poor screaming children.

"That's, that blasphemy Raphael. How could any of her creations be horrid?"

Aziraphale went to brush away Raphael's tears again, and Raphael removed one of his hands from Aziraphale's body so he could hold onto the angels wrist.

"Please angel. You trust me don't you?"

Aziraphale nodded with no hesitation, and Raphael released his wrist and returned his hand to its position around Aziraphale's waist.

"Tomorrow I will have to talk to God, I can't just hide what I know now. I  _ need  _ her to explain." He was pleading with the angel but also with himself. He was terrified but he knew that it was the right thing to do, no matter the outcome.

"Oh Raphael." There were now tears in Aziraphale's eyes and Raphael felt a rush of love so strong that if he'd been standing he was sure his knees would have buckled. He had known the principality for only a short while, but already Aziraphale was the most important thing to him. This one angel, who was so loving and naive. Who was strong and warm and shone like the sun; this angel who looked back at him with even more love then Raphael could fathom, was the reason why Raphael did what he did next.

He kissed the angels soft belly. He felt the angels breath hitch as his stomach went inwards at the intimate touch. Raphael didn't let that deter him as he kissed the curved belly again. He then dipped his head to kiss both sides of Aziraphale's hips, wishing more than anything that the angel wasn't wearing all that fabric. He wanted to feel the angels flesh against his. Gabriel had been talking to him about lust and sex. At first Raphael had scolded him for thinking of such things at such a young age, but he'd been intrigued. Very few angels had sex, it wasn't frowned upon but it wasn't really a need. 

Now that he had Aziraphale in his arms he wondered how any angel could go without sex.

Aziraphale sank down to his own knees, his face the lovely flush that Raphael had fallen in love with.

"I love you." Raphael said, finally kissing his angel on the lips. They were so full and sweet, and Aziraphale made a soft sound that had Raphael melting. 

"I love you too." Aziraphale panted, silent tears running down his face. Raphael kissed him again, tasting saltiness with the sweetness now. He pushed his tongue inside Aizraphales mouth, and dragged them both onto their sides into the sand. He reached a hand down to start tugging up Aziraphale's robe, but the angel surprised him by snapping his fingers and suddenly there were both naked on top of a silky soft white blanket.

"You're gorgeous." Raphael said, intertwining his hand with Aziraphale's as his eyes roved over every dip and curve of his angel's body.

He slid his thin leg between Aziraphale's plusher ones, and bucked his hip forward experimentally. The angel's eyes fluttered closed and he made another sweet sound, his flush reaching down to his chest.

"Absolutely gorgeous, I'll never be this lucky again." Raphael worshiped Aziraphale's lips with his own, tasting and biting and sucking. He flipped them so Aziraphale's heavier form was under his own and he rocked his hips downwards, trying to work out a rhythm that was comfortable for both of them.

"Raph-Raphael." Aziraphale moaned as Raphael sat up and straddled his legs. Raphael took one of Aziraphale's plump thigh and hefted it over his shoulder so he had a better angle.

"I have a brief understanding of this angel, I don't want to hurt you."

Aziraphale was quivering, but gave a stern looked and begged him to continue.

Raphael kissed the angels inner thigh, bending his body forward so he then kiss the angel softly and sweetly on the lips. He aligned himself, and thrust into Aziraphale mid-kiss.

He was rewarded with a low and hungry moan from Aziraphale, and a lovely clenching around his cock.

They kept making out as they settled into a rhythm with their hips. Raphael knew that whatever happened tomorrow, he would always have this moment. He pushed himself deeper in and started moving his hips back more forcefully. The angel was a wanton mess and Raphael was no better. He moved Aziraphale's other leg over his shoulder so he'd have more room, and he was met with the delicious sight of Aziraphale looking up at him with half lidded eyes. His curls were sticking to his sweaty face, and he had a dopey smile.

Raphael figured he looked the same, but he couldn't really care for there was a powerful burning feeling in his lower stomach and he had a feeling he knew what was going to happen.

A few moments later, after more moans of pleasure, both released.

Raphael snapped his fingers to clean them up a second before he collapsed atop Aziraphale.

"That was brilliant." He couldn't stop smiling, and neither could his angel. 

"We have to do that again." Aziraphale said shyly.

And they did, many times, well into the morning.

Raphael came to with the angel cradled in his arms, one of his legs thrown over Aziraphale's hip, the other trapped between his thighs. He swallowed a lump at the sight on Aziraphale's sleeping face on his chest. Raphael's wings were draped over the both of them, his golden ones mixing with Aziraphale's white ones.

He carefully pulled away, gave the angel a finale kiss on the forehead, and headed off to talk to God.

It did not go as he thought it would go. To be honest he wasn't sure how he had thought it would end, but God just sitting there and not saying anything was breaking his heart.

"How can you just sit there? You are allowing a future where your creations to become polluted with hatred. They're destroying themselves and they haven't even been created yet!" Raphael shouted, his body vibrating with righteous anger. "You tell us we're supposed to love these creatures, but how can we love them when you don't value you them. They're just playthings for you to give a happy life for a bit before taking it away and stomping the only hope they have."

God's eyes flashed with warning but Raphael didn't care.

"Why should we love them? When you do not love them yourself."

Later that day Lucifer rebelled and lost, Raphael stood on the outskirts of the battlefield, looking down at the garden. The wall was completed and Aziraphale was standing on the wall with his sword up high.

They made eye contact, and Aziraphale's eyes widened in horror as he watched Raphael fall.

  
  


Anathema was openly sobbing, clutching Geraldine to her chest. The fly had maneuvered her way into the witches arms halfway through the story.

Crowley kept the sex part to a minimum, but he'd said enough that Aziraphale's face was pale and broken.

He licked his chapped lips and scratched at his tattoo.

"That's enough of that talk though. I think we should turn me back to a demon yeah?"

No one said anything as they all took in the story that Crowley had just told.

"God has alwayszzz been cruel." Beelzebub whispered. "But I think it all worked out in the end right? Szzhe waszz molding you to become the szzort of perszzon that would end Armageddon. Maybe there waszz no other way."

Crowley blinked back a few tears and smiled at Beelzebub gratefully.

There was no knowing what  _ she _ had been thinking back then. Her favorite child turning against her publicly, the other one not trusting her enough to see that with the cruelty done to humanity, there would always be beauty; love; happiness to keep the world turning.

"Do you think there's a way to make everyone remember what it was really like before the fall?" Anathema asked, taking a blue handkerchief from her skirt pocket so she could wipe away her tears and blow her nose.

"There might be a way." Aziraphale said confidently. He leaned forward and grabbed a piece of paper from the table. He had a small smile on his face, but it disappeared as he read the prophecy he'd just chosen.

"I have no clue how Agnes thinks we'll get these items." He said sadly, handing the paper over to Crowley.

Crowley gave a startled laugh as he read the paper. "Oh angel, this is too simple." He laughed again, his smile widening with delight. "Anathema has a whole bunch of flowers growing from the garden of Eden in her backyard, as for _the first grain of sand_, and _sunshine red as a fallen angels_ _hair , _well I have those things here. Couldn't resist not keeping some."

"But first, please make me a demon again." Crowley furrowed his brows. "Never thought I'd say that." He mumbled.

Anathema stood up, cradling Geraldine to her chest, and deposited the fly into Beelzebub's waiting arms.

"I'm going to need a few things to get the spell ready, why don't you two help me." She gave the archangel and Lord of Hell no chance to argue, and the four of them left the room to leave Aziraphale and Crowley alone.

Crowley stood up and began pacing nervously, shoving his sunglasses back onto his face.

"Do you really want to remember everything angel? Do you think maybe it would change things?"

Aziraphale stood up from the couch and stopped Crowley's pacing with a gentle hand to his chest.

"My dear, there's nothing to be worried about. From what you're telling me, I was in love with you from the start. There's no need to fear that my remembering our time together back then will change anything for the worst."

Crowley sighed and leaned his forehead against Aziraphale's.

"I'm jus' worried is all. After we defeat one problem another one seems to arise just as quickly, like a bloody Hydra head."

He raised his hand and covered the hand that Aziraphale had put on his chest with his own. 

They stayed there, until a delicate cough broke their moment and they broke away to see Anathema in the doorway with a nasty looking cup of orange goo.

"You'll need to drink this, I don't think it'll hurt as badly as the first time."

She extended her hand and Crowley took the cup with a grimace.

"Well, bottoms up." He said, making a 'cheers' motion, before downing the whole thing. Luckily the cup was clear plastic, so when he dropped it, it didn't shatter to the ground. He thumped his chest with a closed fist, trying to make the putrid sludge go into his stomach.

"That's fucking horrible." He wheezed, wiping sweat from his brow.

There was a horrible cracking sound, and suddenly there was a seven foot red and black scaled snake, with large sunglasses balancing on its snout, standing in the place of Crowley.

It swayed, gave a tiny burp, and then looked down at itself.

" _ Oh bolluckssssss."  _ Crowley hissed, thumping his tail in irritation.

" _ I guess it'sss better than being human."  _ He huffed, slithering his way closer to Anathema, who was looking at him with amusement.

"I think if you just concentrate you'll be back to human form." She informed him.

He flicked his tongue out, and a moment later was standing as his usual self. He pushed his sunglasses up to rest on his head, and he could tell from the pleased smiles that his eyes were back to normal. He felt energized now and full of adrenaline. His back was rather stiff though, so he tried cracking it. The end result was his wings coming out and spreading themselves out with a shake. The air was charged and smelled of cinnamon and burnt leaves.

"Oh my go-sssa-sssomething that feelssss good." He shook his wings out and then beat them a few times, causing the papers on the table to fly everywhere. 

He tucked his wings back in and pulled Anathema in for a hung.

"Thank you my dear." He said pulling away and kissing her soundly on the cheek.

"Oh no, I'm ssstarting to ssound like you." He pouted and looked at Aziraphale who just rolled his eyes and tried to hide his grin.

Everyone gathered in the kitchen, a slight tension in the air.

"Are we good then?" Aziraphale asked.

"I'd rather like to live in peaccsse pleassse." Crowley looked disgruntled that he couldn't quite control his hisses at the moment.

Beelzebub bowed, and then shook both their hands.

"Technically, you ssszztill work for me, but I'll over look thissszz. I think there are more presszzing isszzues right now than an angel and demon...who are in love." They looked at Gabriel. "Don't you agree?"

Gabriel nodded, and then gave Beelzebub an actual smile, instead of one of his fake polite ones or charming ones. 

"Do you think maybe, it'd be alright if I could drop in every once and while. Just to talk. Maybe try...suy..sushi?"

Crowley sighed heavily.

"I'm not the same angel anymore Gabriel."

"I know. It's ok."

Crowley looked taken aback, but shrugged, his face flushing.

"I wouldn't mind."

Gabriel looked as if Crowley had hung the stars- and he had, at least some of them.

The archangel and Lord of Hell left, with one last round of smooches from Geraldine - which was a bit weird since flies have a proboscis rather than lips.

It was only Anathema, Crowley, and Aziraphale left now, and the two lovers said they would gladly take her home in the Bentley.

"Oh wait!" Crowley shouted, sprinting towards the plant room.

The plants began shaking with excitement for the first time in their lives at the sight of him.

"Oh yes!" He shouted, doing a little happy dance as he heard each and every plant welcoming him back.

When Anathema and Aziraphale arrived at the doorway, they were met with a cute scene of one of the larger leafed plants stroking Crowley's hair, while he talked to it.

The plant in question was Octavia, and she was very pleased to see her owner again. She used all the strength she had to keep her leaves a gentle caress through the demons hair. If plants could smile, hers would be the brightest and happiest of them all.

When Crowley got behind the wheel of the Bentley, with Aziraphale next to him and Anathema behind them, he couldn't be happier.

Well, that's a lie. He wasn't truly happy until the familiar notes of Queen filled the car.


	2. Epilogue

Crowley hovered over Aziraphale’s shoulder, his brows furrowed with worry.

“Are you absolutely sure about this? I won’t be mad if you change your mind.”

Aziraphale gave an exasperated sigh, and finished pouring the green liquid out of the pot and into his favorite cocoa mug, which was a white ceramic mug with an angel wing handle that Crowley had given him sometime during their stint together as a nanny and gardener for the fake anti-christ.

Anathema had told them all they had to do to get Aziraphale’s memories back, was to add in the final ingredients of Agnes’ prophecy - she had already put in the flower, freshly plucked from the garden in back- and then heat it up until it boiled.

Than all Aziraphale needed to do was drink it.

“Maybe you should sit down before you drink it. There’s no way of telling what it’ll do.” Crowley ushered Aziraphale into the kitchen chair, and then sat in another one, awkwardly spreading himself out on it while he waited for the angel to drink.

Aziraphale drank it, and set the mug down on the table. Nothing seemed to be happening.

Crowley waited, and waited, and waited some more, for what felt like an eternity until Aziraphale’s face scrunched up in confusion and then angels eyes rolled back in his head.

He didn’t want to move, for fear he’d break Aziraphale out of the trance and who knew what sort of disaster that would bring, so he sat as still as he could and just watched.

Finally Aziraphale came too, and he looked over at Crowley with tears in his eyes.

“Oh Raphael.” His voice was choked.

“Crowley now.” He said teasingly, trying to hide his nervousness.

Aziraphale nodded, and smiled a blinding smile.

“I told you nothing would change  _ Crowley.  _ I still love you, maybe in infinitely more now that I remember you fully.” 

Crowley heaved out a sigh of relief and stood up from his chair so he could walk over to his angel. He towered over the sitting man, and offered his hand to the angel.

The angel took it, and both were standing chest to chest, their cheeks flushed and electricity crackling in the air.

“I do believe that we were doing something rather important before we were so rudely interrupted.” Crowley dipped his head down and nibbled on Aziraphale’s ear lobe, his hands coming to rest lightly on Aziraphale’s plump waist.

“Really dear? You haven’t even taken me to dinner yet.” Aziraphale coyly blinked his lashes and looped his around to clasp behind the taller demons neck.

Crowley drew back his head and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve treated you to more dinners than this entire village can count on all their fingers and toes.” 

Crowley suddnely had an idea.

“But how ‘bout, since I’m such a gentleman, I take you dancing?”

Aziraphale stopped fluttering his lashes at Crowley and swallowed loudly.

“D-dancing?” He squeaked, as the demon started tugging him into the living room.

“Oh come on angel, like I don’t know about your obsession with the gavotte.”

Aziraphale blushed and crossed his arms, putting a barrier between Crowley and him.

“That’s neither here nor there.” He pouted.

Crowley rolled his eyes, but impishly smiled and with a snap of his fingers, their living room was transformed into a much larger ballroom. The ceiling of the ballroom was painted with depictions of cherubs and other angels. The walls were wallpapered with silver leaves and stems on gold background, and the floors were a fine polished white marble.

Crowley snapped his fingers again and the chandeliers hanging high above them were dimmed.

Aziraphale stood there dumbfounded. 

“Crowley, you-.” He cut himself off and swallowed again. 

“I guess it’s only appropriate we dress to fit in.” 

Slow violin music began playing as Aziraphale snapped his fingers. His outfit was replaced with an 18th century version, which meant basically the same outfit but with tail coats, white gloves, and a pair of familiar white shoes that he’d worn during the French Revolution. 

He gently removed Crowley’s glasses from the demons face and whisked them away out of sight.

“Much better.” He said softly. Crowley knew he was blushing and scratched at his tattoo again, and muttered something nonsensical.

“I believe it’s your turn now my dear.”

Crowley smiled wickedly, and like the  _ flash bastard  _ he was, he stepped away from Aziraphale and twirled, his arms spread wide.

The change happened mid twirl, one moment it was just Crowley in his tight pants and shirt, and then a very Nanny Ashtoreth figure was standing before Aziraphale.

Crowley’s hair had lengthened to curl past his ears, and was perfectly coiffed and curled. His eyes were framed by a smoky eyeliner, and a familiar shade of lipstick graced his lips. 

Aziraphale let out a choked noise as Crowley all but  _ slithered  _ over.

“Crowley I wasn’t expecting, that is to say I-” he cleared his throat, “I wasn’t expecting a dress.” Aziraphale managed to get out.

The dress was a deep hue of red, and had long sleeves and a square neckline that exaggerated Crowley’s neck and collarbone. The corset part of the dress was laced tightly and showed off his sharp curves, the full body of the ballgown pronounced his small waist. The dresses fabric pooled at his feet, and made a soft swishing sound as Crowley did another little twirl to show off his figure.

Aziraphale couldn’t look away, his hands itching to touch Crowley. The demon was very aware of that fact that Aziraphale couldn’t help himself when Crowley presented in a more feminine way. 

Neither of them had genders outside of the bodies they’d chosen, so dressing up as the opposite sex of their corporeal forms wasn’t that big a deal, but the bodies they’d chosen seemed to think it was. 

Aziraphale was a blushing mess, and even Crowley was starting to feel hot with the way the soft fabric brushed against his legs and the corset hugged tightly to his chest.

“What does it matter what I wear?” Crowley smirked, walking up to the angel til they were nose to nose.

“The outfit is going to be on the floor at the end of the night anyways, and,” he lowered his voice, “I’ve made it so you just have to pull at the corset tie  _ once _ , and it’ll come right off.”

Aziraphale couldn’t contain himself and started kissing Crowley forcefully, his hands finding their place in Crowley’s hair and his waist. There was no room between the two as they kissed, but it didn’t feel close enough.

“First the dance angel.” Crowley all but purred as he pulled away to put some space between them.

Aziraphale was looking up at him with a dazed look, the pupils of his eyes blown wide, his cheeks flushed and his lips reddened and swollen with the effort of the kiss.

“Right, of course. Yes.” Aziraphale licked his lips and couldn’t take his eyes off the pale and bare collarbone of his lover.

Crowley warmed under the gaze and was met with no resistance as he arranged them into a typical waltz fashion; Aziraphale’s warm hand on Crowley’s waist, Crowley’s left hand on Aziraphale’s shoulders, both their right arms bent at the elbows and their hands interlaced. White glove meeting black glove. Large and square fingers overlapping slender and long ones.

The violin music that had been going on in the background suddenly changed, the room now filled with a strings rendition of Queens ‘Somebody to Love’, and Crowley let out a startled laugh.

“It’s only fitting I suppose.” Aziraphale said and Crowley hummed in agreement. 

They swayed at first, before going into a waltz, Aziraphale tripping a little as he got used to the footing. 

In an act of boldness, he twirled Crowley and dipped the demon. When he pulled him back up the demon was smiling in a way Aziraphale had never seen before.

“That’s not how you dance a waltz.” Crowley said breathlessly, as their waltz morphed into a sway with a few box steps thrown in.

“We always break the rules don’t we?” Aziraphale responded.

They danced through ‘Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy’, and ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’, and ‘Play the Game’, before the music changed once again to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, and Crowley switched their dancing so he was leading. They resumed the waltz, going faster as the music picked up. They glided around the ballroom, the string quartet surrounding them with a sweet and lulling rendition of one of Queen’s most well known songs.

The song became even faster and Crowley’s hand snaked down from Azirphale’s shoulder, down his back, to rest on the raised curve of Aziraphale’s bottom

Crowley’s eyes twinkled in the light as he scooped Aziraphale closer to him, his hand flattened out on the soft cheeks that were hidden under the long tail of the suit coat. Aziraphale inhaled deeply and made a soft noise.

“Is this enough dancing for you?” Crowley asked, a heat starting to grow low in his stomach as he thought about ripping apart the angels clothes so he could feel the soft press of the creamy white flesh against his own.

“ _ God yes.”  _ Aziraphale darted forward and began a slow and long torturous kiss from Crowely’s collar bone, to his neck, to his jaw line, and finally to the corner of his mouth. Crowley tightened his hold on Aziraphale’s ass, and squeezed the hand that was still holding his.

“Bedroom.” Aziraphale panted out, and suddenly the ballroom was gone and they were in their room. The gauzy white curtains had been pulled away to let the moonlight in, and it landed almost purposefully on Aziraphale, highlighting his frame.

Aziraphale motioned for Crowley to turn around, and the demon did so. Aziraphale than aligned his lower half with Crowley’s and pressed closely, making the demon shudder. Feather light fingers pulled at the coreset’s strings, and true to his word, the dress fell loosley down his shoulders and wrested around his waist, the press of the angel against him trapping the dress.

Aziraphale began softly kissing Crowley’s shoulder blades, his arms encircling Crowley’s waist possessively. Crowley tilted his head back, exposing his neck more. Aziraphale took the hint and moved his lips to Crowely’s neck, alternating between feather like kisses, and soft sucking.

Crowley couldn’t take it anymore and he twisted around, letting the dress fall fully to the floor. He pushed on Aziraphale’s chest and the angel landed on the bed with an “ _ omph”,  _ escaping his lips.

He propped himself up onto his elbows just as Crowley straddled his thicker thighs and descended on his mouth. The kiss was wet, rushed, and sloppy, but neither cared. Crowley’s lipstick was smearing everywhere as he pressed his naked form closer to Aziraphale’s clothed one.

They broke away, and Crowley started pushing off Aziraphale’s jacket, whipping the thing behind his back once it was fully off. He then turned his attention to the angel’s waistcoat and began unbuttoning it. Aziraphale made the motion to snap his fingers but Crowley stopped him with a chaste kiss.

“Let me undress you the  _ human _ way,” he all but begged.

He tossed aside the waist coat and then the buttoned up shirt aside just like the jacket before them. The angel was now shirtless beneath him, and looked utterly  _ sinful  _ in the pale moonlight. Crowley’s fingers trailed up and down the soft body, soaking in the sensation and the thought that he was finally touching his angel in the most intimate of ways.

Crowley dipped his head down and replaced his fingers with his lips, making the angel beneath him arch upwards off the bed as his head dipped dangerously lower and lower.

Crowley could feel the angels hardness between his eyes, and he brought his lips down to mouth at the hardness that was so hot he could feel it through the fabric of the pants.

The angel was saying something, but Crowley was a million miles away. His greatest fantasy was coming to life right before him. The first time they had sex didn’t feel like it had counted. It’d been so long ago and they’d been very different. Crowley had quite literally been a different being, an ethereal one instead of an occult. 

Then they’d been interrupted before anything good could happen earlier in the day, so really. This was their first time. This was the first time that the angel would succumb to the sin of the flesh, and Crowley stopped touching the angel with his mouth for a moment.

“-owley just take them off.” Aziraphale was whining.

Crowley swallowed and moved crawled over Aziraphale til their chests were aligned. Aziraphale gave a huff of frustration and confusion.

“If we do this angel, everything will change.” His voice was pained as he tenderly brushed away some of Aziraphale’s white curls away from his forehead. “I’m not worth the fall.”

Aziraphale looked at him sharply. “Who said anything about anyone falling. I have complete faith that God herself approves of what’s happening. And even if she didn’t, I wouldn’t care at all- oh dear there I go again being blasphemous.”

Crowley laughed and peppered soft kisses on the apples of the angels cheeks.

“I don’t think I’m worthy.” He said softly.

Aziraphale kissed him, slow and languid, his hands coming up to cradle Crowley’s face.

“You are  _ more  _ than worthy.” He insisted.

There was more kissing, and gentle touches. Aziraphale shimmied out of his pants and both of them arched at the full feeling of being flesh to flesh.

Crowley wanted this to last forever, so he took his time tasting Aziraphale. From the softness of his neck, the surprising sharpness of his collar bone, the soft belly and creamy flesh of his inner thighs. Crowley worshipped all these things with his lips and tongue, tasting the sweetest thing he could ever fathom. Nothing could compare to this.

At least that’s what he thought until he had the angels fullness in his mouth.

His mouth was met with warmth and sweetness, and he eagerly plunged downwards, whisking away any gag reflex his corporeal form might have so he could swallow all of his angel. Aziraphale made a needy noise and bucked upwards, his hand going into Crowley’s again short and spikey hair and pulling at it.

Crowley went slow, sliding up and down, swirling his tongue around Aziraphale every now and then, earning another tug of his hair and a soft whimper every time.

Crowley could never get used to the angels moans. Sweet and soft and needy and all for  _ him _ .

The angel gave another buck of his hips, and Crowley knew that the angel was close. He could feel himself almost at the edge too. The angel hadn’t even touched him and he was almost spent already. Crowley dug his fingers into Aziraphale’s hip bones and pulled away with a satisfying  _ pop,  _ giving one last heavy lick to the underside of Aziraphale’s cock.

“Angel.” He hissed out, slithering back up again and whispered into the angels ear. “I want you inside me.”

Aziraphale let out a low and hungry sounding moan, and suddenly Crowley was flipped onto his back. Aziraphale wiggled his ass deliciously slow as he settled onto Crowley’s thin lap. His wings unfurled from their hiding spot and spread across the entire room, shadowing the room with their brilliant whiteness.

Crowley stroked one of the feathers hesitantly, and was met with softness and the tingle of a shock on his fingertips. Aziraphale pushed his wings closer and Crowley stroked more of the feathers, this time a little harsher.

Aziraphale wiggled again and Crowley groaned.

“Get on with it,  _ please angel.”  _

Aziraphale gave a cheeky grin and dipped down to kiss Crowley’s nose.

“Hold on a moment, I want to see your wings too dear.”

Crowley flushed, but propped himself up so his own wings could come out. Once the dark and shiny appendages were spread out properly on the bed, he leaned back down and flushed darker as he saw how the angel was looking at him.

Aziraphale was looking at him as if he was the beautifullest thing in the world.

“Oh Crowley.” He breathed out like a prayer, and sunk both of his hands down into the black feathers and kissed Crowley once again, swallowing the deepest of moans from the demons throat. 

Aziraphale then moved further down, slicked up his fingers, and sought out Crowely’s hole and gently pushed in.

Crowley winced a little and remembered something he’d read once about having sex. Human females were able to produce a natural lubricant during sex, so Crowley figured that would be the best way to go and, once Aziraphale had removed his finger to thrust in another, disappeared his male half and replaced it with a vagina.

Aziraphale made a noise as he noticed the demons newer and wetter sex, and couldn’t help but lean down and taste the fluid leaking out of the swollen sex.

“ _ Scrumptious.”  _ He said, licking his lips. The taste of something sweet and savory dancing over his tongue as he truly tasted Crowley.

The demon flushed, and his wings thumped against the bedspread in happiness.

Aziraphale leaned down again and flicked his tongue inside, allowing himself the sins of gluttony and greed as he tasted his fill. His wings were arching higher with his arousal and he started grinding downwards, desperately wanting to go inside his demon.

He spent a generous amount of time on the demons clint, the sex swelling with arousal and burning beautfiully against his lips. He looked up and was met with the sight of Crowley in the throes of passion. His face was flushed, his mouth opened with curses and aroused noises. His half lidded eyes were beacons in the darkness, though there was hardly any yellow left as his pupils were far too dilated.

Aziraphale decided it was time, and with a final lingering kiss on his lovers lower lips, he pushed apart Crowley’s legs so they were wrapped around his waist.

He aligned himself with Crowely’s entrance, took a deep breath, and inched his way in.

Crowley arched up all the way, his hands stabilizing himself by grabbing onto the angels biceps.

“Fuck.” The way he said it was needy and drawn out. He tightened his legs around Aziraphale and urged the angel to go in deeper.

They both had a fire in their belly’s that could only be quenched by Aziraphale fucking Crowley hard into the matress. Crowley was thrilled with that idea, and let Aziraphale pound into him, over and over.

He was close, he could feel himself tightening around Aziraphale, and the fire in his stomach was going lower and burning even more. There was a tingle in the air as Aziraphale’s wings reached down and met Crowley’s rising wings, and as they touched there was a loud crack and the smell of ozone. 

Crowley’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he shuddered with the strength of his orgasm. He was faintly aware of his angels own release, and a taste of ozone and electricity in the air. He opened his eyes with effort and saw that he and Aziraphale were both glowing in a warm golden light.

Crowley let out a yelp, which shook Aziraphale from his blissed out state.

The angel smiled just as brightly as the glowing light that surrounded them, and slumped down beside the demon and scooped Crowley into his arms, careful of both their wings.

“Didn’t I tell you she would approve?”

Crowley looked at his angel in wonder, and then buried his head into the angels neck and slid one of his legs in between the angels thighs. He tucked his wings away, and pulled the arm that was around his shoulders closer so he could kiss each finger.

The angel lazily snapped his fingers and they were both cleaned up, even the lipstick smudges were gone from their faces and bodies.

Aziraphale started humming a tune that Crowley knew from long ago but couldn’t place. It was a soft hum that filled the room and Crowley started to feel sleepy. He was satisfied and warm and his angel was holding him close and kissing his head. 

The last thing he was aware of before he drifted off was a pair of white, downey feather covering him and the angel in a warm cocoon as the sun began to rise.

  
  


Gabriel straightened his tie, his steps loud and determined as he approached the restaurant. 

This was a special occasion so he’d changed into a tailored dark blue suit with a pale blue tie that brought out his purple eyes.

He looked into the window of the restaurant and smoothed his hair down out of nervous habit, and walked into the  _ Ritz. _

It was a two months after the entire fiasco that had led him to rethink his life choices. Aziraphale had been the one to suggest the Ritz after Gabriel had finally gotten the courage to ask Beelzebub out.

Here he was, an archangel, trying to court a demon in a very human way, who would have thought?

He spotted them immediately. The horribly tall and orange wig was causing other patrons to openly stare, but Beelzebub had explained as he sat down, that it was the easiest way to hide Geraldine and the other flies.

Beelzebub looked rather good - besides the hideous wig. They were wearing a red wine colored silk blouse, and high waisted black slacks that accentuated their figure. Crowley had helped them pick out the outfit, and had even lenses them a velvet black choker that had a small Ruby charm dangling from it.

“I must confess, I used to believe that food was terribly wrong and shouldn't sully an angels body, for it is his temple.” Gabriel picked up a menu and squinted at it.

He thought back to last week when Aziraphale had finally convinced him to try sushi. Gabriel had managed to pack away about ten platefuls before the angel had dragged him away.

“Let me guesszzz, Azzirphale got to you?” Beelzebub inquired.

Gabriel nodded.

“He got to me too, practically begged me to come to a dinner party. I szzeem to have a taszzte for honey dipped fruits now.”

“Well nothing is as sweet as honey, except for you.” Gabriel patted himself on the back for using that line as Beelzebub blushed and hid their head behind their menu. He had been trying to get with the times, and had recently become obsessed with a British soap opera, which he now owed his cheesy line too.

The two ordered and enjoyed their meal, their talks at first the tentative subject of work, before flowing easily into hobbies and jokes.

When they left the restaurant three hours later, after pointed stares from the waiter, they walked close enough to each other that their arms kept brushing together. 

Gabriel didn't want the date to end, and as if sensing his mood, started digging into her wig. 

Gabriel raised an eye in question as Beelzebub pulled out two tickets from the orange nest of hair.. 

“Crowley szzuggested we go to a play. There'szz a revival of Much Ado About Nothing going on right now. Crowley said itszzz one of hiszzz favoriteszzz.”

Gabriel smiled and took a ticket from Beelzebub’s hand and pocketed it into his pants.

“Are you going to wear that dreadful thing all night?” He pointed at the wig.

Beelzbub rolled their eyes, and stopped outside of a familiar door so they could knock on it.

Gabriel was surprised to see they were in front of the bookshop. He hadn’t realized the restaurant was so close.

“Aziraphale offered to watch over Geraldine and the others.” Beelzebub chucked the orange wig into the street, and the flies began buzzing with excitement at the feeling of fresh air instead of stale wig.

The door opened, and Geraldine and the other flies barreled into Aziraphale’s waiting arms.

“Have fun!” He said to the couple, eager to send them off, but Crowley slithered over to his side, gave a mini wave in greeting, and reached across the angel to shut the door, cutting off any words of ‘good luck’ from the angel’s lips.

Beelzbub and Gabriel didn't mind the rudeness, because they were too caught up in themselves. And as they walked towards the theatre, their hands gravitated towards each other and their hands clasped together. 

Five months later, Aziraphale was walking in circles, his thumbs nervously twiddling.

“I did the right thing right? Crowley will like the surprise?” He asked Anthema.

Anathema gave an exasperated sigh and watched the angel go in circles.

“For the  _ last  _ time Aziraphale. I'm sure he will love it.” She turned a desperate eye to Adam, but his head was buried in a magazine.

“ _ Right  _ Adam?” She gritted her teeth.

The boy finally looked up from his magazine. 

“Of course Uncle Crowley will love the surprise. From what I've heard he was rather fond of Warlock.”

Adam returned his magazine and Aziraphale stopped pacing, a soft smile lit his face because Adam had addressed Crowley as his uncle.

“Aunt for today my dear boy. We don't need to confuse Warlock anymore than we need to.”

Anathema sighed with relief and returned to fiddling with the bouquet of flowers that Crowley was to walk down the aisle with. 

Well aisle was a bit of a stretch. Through way of demonic and angelic miracle, St. James Park had been cleared of all civilians, animals, and government agents. There was a red carpet by the pond that led to a flower covered arch way, and plush benches had been arranged in front of it.

Adam, Dog, and the Them had arrived with Newt and Anathema. They were too all help set up the wedding in what ways they could, and to help the bride and groom.

Anathema had originally been with Crowley and Pepper on the other side of the park where a large cluster of trees had been persuaded to move closer to hide them from the groom and the area where the ceremony was to take place.

Crowley had done a lot of yelling and threatening as his way of being  _ persuasive. _

But then Newt had rushed over to them and said Aziraphale was having a bit of a breakdown.

Crowley had insisted he go over to see and comfort his angel, but Anathema did some persuading of her own and rushed after Newt with her bouquet in hand, leaving Crowley with Pepper.

Newt had managed to scramble off and play with the other two members of The Them and dog, as she and Adam played damage control.

The ex-antichrist wasn’t playing with the other boys, instead he was pretending to read a magazine because he’d heard about this new boy Aziraphale was fretting about. He was curious, and a little bit jealous.

“So this Warlock boy, how attached to him are you?” Adam asked not taking his eyes off the magazine in front of him.

Anathema saw where this was going and rolled her eyes again but didn't comment. 

“Well, I was his gardner and then his tutor for eleven years so there is some emotional attachment. We never really clicked super well, but we kept in touch after Crowley and I left.” 

“Unbeknownst to Crowley that is.” Aziraphale muttered to himself. 

Adam nodded his head, satisfied with the answer.

“What about Crowley?”

Adam knew that it was very special that Warlock was being invited, but he didn't want to think it was because Crowley favored the kid. He hoped it was just a nostalgia thing.

“Well, Crowley and Warlock got a long like bread on butter.”

Adam’s head snapped up from his magazine.

“What?” He snapped.

Aziraphale ignored him and instead asked Anathema if she could gather Shadwell and Madame Tracey from the gate of the park. He could sense then and normally they would have been able to just enter the park. But this was a special occasion and the miracle wouldn't let them in unless someone who was already in St.James Park allowed them in.

Anathema scurried away to do so, and Adam set aside his magazine to give Aziraphale his full attention.

Just because he was the antichrist didn’t mean he had different feelings from other boys his age. Hearing that two of the people he’d grown fond of and even loved like family, had another boy like him who they adored too, well that was unsettling.

Adam was glad at least to see that Aziraphale wasn’t as caught up in Warlock as he was with Adam himself, but anyway who named a kid Warlock anyhow?

“Why did  _ Warlock  _ and Uncle Crowley get along so well?” Adam tried not to pout but didn’t succeed.

“Well, Crowley spent most of the time with Warlock. He was the boy’s nanny after all, practically raised him because of his absentee parents, and they grew rather attached. I know it hurt Crowley when we had to leave, but he’s a demon and would never admit it. So even though we came back as tutors, it wasn’t the same.” He paused and pulled at his cumberbund that was fitting a little too snugly around his waist. “I pretended to be Crowley sending letters as Nanny Ashtoreth so the boy could get some closure.”

Adam sat up from the bench and walked over to Aziraphale.

“But I’m the favorite.” He demanded.

Aziraphale blinked at him in confusion, before finally catching on.

“Of course dear boy. You’ve wormed your way into both our hearts indefinitely.” Aziraphale smiled and tousled Adam’s hair.

Adam ducked away from the affection, but returned to his magazine with a smile.

On the other side of the park, after Anathema had shows Madame Tracey and Sergeant Shadwell where to go, there was a similar panic going on.

“A surprise?” Crowley arched an eyebrow. “What sort of surprise?” He pestered Pepper.

Pepper rolled her eyes and took a definitive stance. “I dunno. All I overheard was Azira fluttering about and getting nervous about a surprise for you.”

Anathema tried to reach the girls eye to signal to her to stop talking, but Crowley caught it.

He slithered over to Anathema and gave her his best devilish grin.

“Be a dear and tell me what this is all about. I can make it worth your while.”

Anathema laughed. “Is that the line you normally use when tempting.”

Crowley flushed and muttered something under his breath.

“I might be a bit out of practice with face to face tempting, but come on Anathema. I don’t need my wedding going up in flames because the angel has decided to give me a surprise.”

Anathema patted his arm and replied smoothly. “The surprise is nothing harmful, now let’s finish your hair.”

Being the maid of honor to a demon had been rather nice. Crowley hadn’t gone full bridezilla as Anathema had expected, and even let Anathema choose what dress she wanted from a very expensive store.

It was a lovely velvet royal blue wrap dress that stopped at her knees. Crowley had even braided her hair into a flower sort of shape and pinned it up. He muttered something about having longer hair back in the day after she’d gushed about how lovely it was. 

Crowley’s wedding attire, was a form fitted female suit. High waisted creamy white slacks, and a matching suit jacket on top that had a deep v to show off his chest. Attached to the top of the suit jacket was a long train that stopped a few inches from the ground due to the extremely high stilettos he was wearing. He had changed his sunglasses up to round frames that were tinted light purple, and he wore fire truck red lipstick. 

Anathema gave his hair a few more spritz’s of hairspray, and stepped back to admire the way Crowley’s hair had been slicked back and coiled into a low bun that held a few of the blue and orange petaled flowers that matched the bouquet.

“You look beautiful.” Anathema complimented Crowley.

Even Pepper nodded her approval, saying she was glad Crowley hadn’t settled for a conservative wedding dress. Crowley had patted her head and said he wasn’t that type of demon.

There was a familiar sound of the wedding march beginning, and Anathema gently pushed at Pepper to head toward the ceremony. Pepper ran off in her mary janes and lavender suit - because she wasn’t going to wear a dress thank you very much - the basket of rose petals bouncing against her leg.

Anathema picked up the long veil that might have been overkill because the suit already came with a cape like train, but Crowley was the type of person who could just pull off extra.

Once the veil was placed properly over Crowley’s face, Anathema then fluffed the back of the veil so it was spread out evenly behind Crowley.

She looped her arms through Crowley’s, and gave him the wedding bouquet to hold, and then began to walk with Crowley towards the rose petals that were scattered on the red carpet.

The Them were sitting on Crowley’s side, with Dog sitting patiently between Peppers thighs. Anathema smiled when saw that there was an extra body sitting next to the small group. Warlock had arrived.

Adam was up front beside Aziraphale,after insisting he should be best man. Newt was sitting with Madame Tracey and Sergeant Shdawell on Aziraphale’s side.

Gabriel and Beelzebub were both officiating, with Geraldine ( with help from a demonic miracle) wearing a flower that matched Crowely’s bouquet and the ones strewn into his hair.

The music stopped as Crowley stood in front of Aziraphale. Anathema took the bouquet of flowers from Crowely’s hands and stepped back and took her place behind him. 

From the moment Aziraphale lifted Crowely’s veil - standing on tippy-toes to do so - they both became entranced in their own little world. Gabriel and Beelzebub alternated talking, but neither the bride nor the groom paid attention.

The love for each other was enough for Gabriel to get a dopey look on his face, and for Beelzebub to turn away slightly.

Anathema was brought to tears as she saw the angels and demons auras tangling together.

The rest of the wedding went by like a blur for Crowely, until Gabriel finally got to the ‘I do’ parts. Then time seemed to slow down as he looked down at his angel, who was starting up at him with such adoring eyes.

“I do.” Crowely whispered, not trusting his voice, worried it would betray how affected he was by this.

“I do.” Aziraphale said strongly, not afraid to show how happy and in love he was.

Crowley bent down to meet the angels lips and kissed him feather light and soft. There was a polite clapping, and Crowley suddenly felt bold. With the extra height from the heels, he was at a perfect advantage to dip Aziraphale in his arms and give him a proper long and dirty kiss.

There was louder clapping, and whooping from Madame Tracey and Anathema. There was little noise of disgust from the Them but the loudest of the clapping was coming from their side and contradicted them.

Geraldine buzzed around their heads with excitement, before settling on Dog’s head, who gave a happy yip.

A reception table was miracled into existence, stuffed to the brim with fine wines, and savory and sweet dishes. The guests came to congratulate the happy couple who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

When what seemed to be the last guest made their way over to the buffet table, Crowley leaned down and whispered in Aziraphale’s ear, “so what’s the surprise angel?”

Aziraphale sputtered. “Surprise? What surprise? I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not very good at keeping secrets,  _ secret  _ angel.” Crowley huffed with amusement.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and squeezed Crowely’s hand.

“Well since you’ve bested me, I suppose you can turn around to see your surprise.” 

Crowley shrugged and whirled around to come face to face, or more stomach to face, with a familiar eleven year old boy.

Warlock looked slightly uncomfortable in a starched tux, and his usually messy and long dark hair was slicked back. It acted much like Crowely’s hair did when met with hair products; little tufts of dark hair were sticking out in defiance.

Even now, a few curls had fallen out of the updo and fallen to frame Crowley’s face.

“I can see why you wear sunglasses.” Warlock said, staring definitely up at Crowley. His face then became bashful, and he shyly said, “but they’re really pretty so I’m glad your not hiding them.”

Crowley later on, would always scoff and deny that a few tears had slipped out, and that he’d let out a tiny noise.

“Master Warlock, how nice to see you again.” Crowley, now nanny Ashteroth, said softly.

Nanny Ashteroth miracled the grass underneath her not to stain her outfit as she got down on her knees and pulled Warlock into a hug. The boy made a squeak of surprise, but eagerly hugged nanny back, burying his head in her hair.

She clucked her tongue when she felt his tears on her neck, and she soothingly rubbed circles across his back.

She made eye contact with Aziraphale who was looking at them with such love in his eyes that Ashtoreth let a few more tears come out, before she pulled the eleven year old closer to her and kissed his cheek.

Unbeknownst to them all - except for Adam - a nightingale was sat singing upon a branch, high above in a tree overlooking the scene below.

Adam was still too young to understand the implications of a nightingale singing in Berkeley Square, so he never mentioned it til later on, when he heard the song playing in Hollythorn cottage a year after the wedding.

The nightingale gave one final note of song and flew away, higher and higher up into the clouds.

The nightingale morphed into a human shape that was radiating a bright gold. The figure had many faces and wings, and stood as tall as the Chrysler building if not taller. 

The figure sat down on a throne of soft clouds and flower vines and looked at the scaled down version of the scene she’d just left.

God had a smile on her face as she looked down upon Aziraphale and Crowley, who had finally pulled away from Warlock so she could kiss her husband. Beelzebub and Gabriel were at the buffet table, their pinkies locked together as they sampled the eclairs.

God put a finger to her chin and thought for a moment about what she could do next. She thought about Michael, who had used her cell phone in the stairway to contact a certain demon who had fishy scales on her face.

God smiled.

Putting Michael and Dagon together... _ now _ that was a concept. 


End file.
